


A Reset of Intent

by iihappydaysii



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Happy Ending, M/M, and it's not a big part of the story, but it doesn't come from phil, dan's in the hospital, important distinction, not priest phil, pastor phil, pretty soft, there's mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: Dan might be dying. It’s unclear at this point, but, in any case, he’s stuck going stir crazy in a hospital room for the time being. Phil is a pastor at a local church who got a phone call about visiting someone’s lonely grandson. It shouldn’t work between them, but it does. A little too well for a maybe-dying atheist and a maybe-not-all-that-straight man of God.





	1. Chapter 1

Dan raised the back of the uncomfortable hospital bed with the clunky grey remote. His back was hurting and his ratty sweats were riding up his hips. At least he didn't have to wear that stupid paper gown anymore. It made him feel like an idiot.

It had only been a few weeks, and Dan was already going stir crazy in this place. Even though he spent most of his time home alone on his computer, it felt different here when he knew he couldn’t go outside even if he wanted to. He wasn't sure how long he'd be stuck in hospital or if he’d ever leave. That was the worst part—the not knowing. 

There was a knock at the door, and Dan looked at the clock on his phone. 3:30 in the afternoon was a weird time for the nurses to stop by, but he could use some novelty in his day, even if that novelty was just getting his blood pressure taken at different time.

“Come in,” Dan said, tonelessly.

“Hello. Dan?” The voice was deep and male, nice but unfamiliar. All Dan’s nurses so far had been women.

The man who stepped out of the small corridor in his room and into view wasn’t dressed in the mint green of the nurses or in the white coats of the doctors. He was wearing simple dark-wash jeans and a sweater with a triceratops on it. He had dark rimmed glasses and a quiff of jet black hair over a narrow, handsome face. 

Dan felt his stomach drop a little. It wasa _very_ handsome face.

“You’re Dan Howell, yes?” the attractive man said, staring at Dan a little too intensely for his comfort. Dan hadn’t done his hair and was probably looking like death warmed over.

“Yeah…not to be rude, but who are you?” Dan finally managed.

“Phil, Phil Lester.”

“Sorry, man, but that name just doesn’t ring any bells. Do we know each other from school or something?”

Phil shook his head. “No, no. We don’t know each other at all. Your grandmother called me.”

Dan sat up in the bed, feeling sufficiently weirded out at this point, but still the guy _was_ pretty fit and Dan was bored as hell. “What? Why would she do that?”

“We met once and she thought that…since she couldn’t be here, with you as much as she would like, that maybe I could, you know, sit with you.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed. “My nan just rang a man she met randomly to come hang out with her dying grandson and he agreed? That sounds a little dodgy.”

Phil blinked a few times. “You’re dying?”

Dan shrugged.  “It’s unclear.”

“Oh…okay.”

“So, _are_ you?”

“Dying?” Phil’s voice cracked.

Dan snort laughed. “No. Dodgy.”

“Oh.” Phil cracked smile. “No, I’m not dodgy.”

“Hmm…that’s just what a dodgy man would say.” Dan laughed little at his own joke. “Seriously though, how do you know my nan?”

Phil took a step closer to Dan’s bed. “I’m from Grace Point.”

“Grace Poi….wait, is that that mega church?”

“It’s not a mega church. We only have about a thousand people on any given Sunday.”

 _Fantastic._ The hot guy was actually just here to convert him. Dan thought his grandma had gotten past this, but apparently not. 

Dan sighed. “Thanks for coming, uh, Phil, but really I’m fine. I don’t need like prayed over or anything.”

“I wasn’t planning on praying over you,” he said. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Dan’s eyes widened. _Did he seriously just…_ No. Dan and his dirty, cooped-up mind were just imagining things. “Priest kink is one of the few kinks I don’t actually have.” Maybe being dirty would scare this guy away.

“I’m not a priest. Pastor, technically.”

“Is there a difference?”

“I can get married and wear this very rad triceratops sweater.”

Dan couldn’t help a breathy laugh. “It _is_ very rad.”

Phil pulled down on the sweater and took a look at it. “Thanks.”

“So are you married?”

“Huh?” Phil snapped his head back up. “No…no I’m not.”

“Ah, so what do I call you? Pastor? Pastor Lester?”

With a shake of his head, Phil said, “Phil is fine.”

“Well, Phil, like I was saying earlier. I don’t know why my nan called you. I…like I don’t, well, I don’t believe in anything really and maybe she’s afraid for my immortal soul or something since I may or may not be dying, but that’s my business and I thought she’d come ‘round. But, no, of course she hasn’t. Not really. Instead, she sends an attractive pastor to my bedside to try and drag me back to the Lord!” Dan took a deep breath. 

 _Fuck._ He’d called this strange pastor attractive, hadn’t he?

“You’re gay?”

Dan blinked. “That’s what you got out of that?”

“You called me attractive,” Phil said as if that had been the only thing Dan said at all.

“I’m not gay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m…I don’t like to label it, but I’m, you know, into lads sometimes.”

Phil shrugged. “Okay.” 

“So, like…you can go…”

Phil looked directly at Dan. “I’d rather stay.”

“You’re not going to convert me,” Dan said with certainty.

“I didn’t plan on trying.”

“Why not? Oh…you’re just one of those pastors who’s like…you have some books on tape to sell me, don’t you?”

“No, but I do have some elaborate tapestries of John the Baptist. Only, three easy payments of 19.99.”

Dan glanced at the chair beside him. “Sit, you weirdo.”

A little blush blossomed on Phil’s face and she shuffled over to the chair. He plopped down in it. 

“So, is this like your job? Sitting at the bedside of the sad and dying?” Dan asked.

“Pretty much. I’m a visitation pastor.”

“That sounds depressing…”

“I like cheering people up. I always have. Now, I get to do some good and get paid for it.”

“Ah, you’re only here with me because they’re paying you? Now, I get it,” Dan said, feigning disappointment. 

“Oh yes. It’s a real get-rich quick scheme.”

Dan turned over a little so she was facing Phil. “Okay, go on then.”

Phil hesitated. “W-what?”

“Cheer me up.”

For the next few hours, they just talked. It was surprisingly easy, as if this wasn't the first time they were meeting. It was probably some sort of special training Phil had received at pastor school or whatever the hell it was called. Still, it felt nice to talk to someone about something other than his blood pressure or what his aunts and uncles were up to. Dan was surprised to find Phil was into so much of the stuff he was into. Frank Ocean and Perfume Genius. _Attack on Titan_ and _My Neighbor Totoro_. Crash Bandicoot and Mario Kart. They weren't the hobbies Dan expected from a pastor, but nothing about this man was what he thought of when he thought of that. Phil was funny and kind, surprisingly irreverent, if only a little, and unassuming in the best kind of way. They didn't stop talking until a nurse walked in and asked Phil to leave for privacy, and Phil had said, “I should get going anyway.”

“Sorry, mate,” Dan said. “They don't like anyone here when they probe me.”

The nurse’s face went red. “We’re not—there will be absolutely no probing.” She looked at Phil. “Sorry about him, Pastor Phil.”

 _So other people did call him Pastor? And,_ Dan thought, _he must come here often if the nurses knew him by name._

Phil looked back at Dan. “It was good to meet you.”

“You too.” Dan smiled. “Put in a good word with the Lord for me.”

 

. . .

 

Phil had known the dark-haired man he’d met at hospital hadn’t actually meant for Phil to put in a ‘good word with the Lord’, as Dan had said it, but that evening, when Phil was praying in the quiet dim of his bedroom, his mind kept wandering to Dan, to their easy conversation and his smile that was so frequent despite his self-deprecation, despite the outward layer of black and gloom. 

There were other things Phil should have prayed for, but he didn’t like his prayers to be a laundry list, like if he forgot to pray for Betsy’s hip replacement God would go “Gotcha” and poor Betsy’s hip would fall off. Phil liked to treat prayer like meditation or reflection—a reset of intent. Sometimes he confessed his sins—if he had been unkind or if he had lacked compassion. But mostly it was this, sitting in the stillness sipping tea and telling God what was on his heart.

Tonight, Phil couldn’t seem to find anything else to tell him about besides Dan. As if God didn’t already know that man, down to the number of hairs on his head. In that moment, Phil wished, strangely, startlingly, that he could know too. 

Phil waited three days. He had church on Sunday, his small group Tuesday night, but on Wednesday morning Phil found himself slipping out of office early, down to Tescos for a bottle of Ribena, and over to hospital.

He knocked on the door, and when he heard Dan’s voice tell him to come in, he felt an electric jolt through his system he didn’t have a name for so he just ignored it and went on in.

“You’re back?” Dan sounded surprised. He was looking a little paler than the last time, though it might be in part the white-shirt he was wearing. His eyes were dark, soft but somehow intense. And his lips…they…they fit his face very well.

“I brought a drink.” Phil held up the Ribena.

“Aw, I was hoping for hard liquor.”

Phil looked down at the bottle and hesitated. “You said it was your favorite”

“It is. I was kidding about the liquor, Phil.”

“Oh, good,” Phil felt himself perk back up. “How have you been?”

“Wonderful, as you can see. Got a new IV and everything. Real interesting stuff going on here. You?”

With a faint smile, Phil sat down in the chair by Dan’s bedside. “Business as usual. Started a new series in the small group I lead.”

“TV series?”

Phil chuckled. “No, Dan. Series, as in topic of study.”

“Oh…what is it on? Sexual purity?”

“No, um, why would you think—”

“Youth group was my only experience with church and it was always about sexual purity. I’m pretty sure I was wearing my purity ring when I gave my first blow job.”

Phil sucked in a sharp breath, taking some spit along with it. He coughed, as he had trouble getting air into his lungs. The phrase ‘blow job’ rattled around in his head a bit.

Dan lightly shook his IVs. “Jeez, sorry Phil. This new IV is really something. It has me saying all sorts of shit.”

Through the coughs, Phil managed to say, “It’s okay. Not you. Wrong pipe.”

“They’re just gonna have to roll an extra bed in here and you can die with me.”

Phil bristled at the word die coming from Dan’s mouth. He knew that it was possible. Dan _could_ be dying. Phil dealt with this all the time. He took it in stride as part of his job, as his calling, but for some reason, with Dan, he just couldn’t. 

“So, what _is_ your new series on?”

Phil coughed one last time before catching his breath completely. “Have you ever read C.S. Lewis’s _The Problem of Pain?_ ”

“I’ve read C.S Lewis’s _The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe?”_

Phil chuckled. “I’d much prefer that. This isn’t a topic I particularly like to think about, but the group voted.”

“But isn’t pain like your whole job?”

“My job is…it’s to sit with people in their pain, not try to tell them why it happened. That there’s a reason for it.”

Dan paused, his face scrunching up. “Is there? A reason for it?”

“Pastor answer or Phil answer?”

“What do you think?” Dan gave him a half-smile.

Phil let out a long breath and frowned. “No, Dan. There’s no reason. Life is just unfair.”

Dan waved a hand across his body, all thin and hooked up to wires. “You’re telling me, mate.” 

For a moment, Phil just allowed himself to look over at Dan, to watch him, to observe. Then, Dan broke the silence.

“You going to pour me any of that Ribena you brought me or what?”

So Phil did. He poured them each a drink in the plastic hospital cups, and they spent a few easy hours talking again. Dan carried on about how he missed console games—how iPad apps just weren't the same. They talked about high school and A levels and having trouble making friends that understood the weird stuff they were into. They chatted about their former bad hair fringe hair cuts and their questionable fashion choices. When evening rolled around, Phil considered skipping Wednesday night services, but he couldn’t explain that to Pastor Jim without flat-out lying. Phil wasn’t willing to do that, especially when he could just come back next week…or maybe later this week even.

“Before you go, Phil…I mean, I know my nan is like paying you to hang out with me.”

“She’s not pay—“

“If you wanted my number, you could, you know, have it.”

Phil smiled. He wanted it. He pulled out his phone and handed it to Dan to put his number in it. When Dan handed it back, Phil said, “Great. Now I can add you to my daily Bible verse chain.”

Dan’s eyes went super wide. It was kind of cute. 

Phil laughed. “For an edgy atheist who doesn’t believe in anything, you're pretty gullible.”

“You should abandon your vows for a life as a comedian. 

“Vows are a priest thing too, Dan.” Phil shook his head, smiling, as he started to back out of the room.

“Say hi to God for me, Phil,” Dan said. 

“Say hi to the vast nothingness for me, Dan.” With that, Phil slipped out of Dan’s room.

That evening, when the worship band was on the fifth bridge refrain of some Chris Tomlin song, Phil slipped his phone out of his pocket and sent Dan a text.

**Phil: Do you think God knows He is awesome yet or should the worship leader do a couple dozen more refrains?**

**Dan: How many times _does_ it take for God to know how awesome he is? I don’t know, Phil. I’m afraid this might be a center of the Tootsie Pop situation.**

**Phil: Oh, okay. Do you have a cartoon owl I can borrow?**

The next text Phil received was a photo of a drawing of a cute owl on a hospital napkin.

**Dan: Let me know how it goes.**

Phil couldn’t help the big grin that erupted on his face. His friend Kate elbowed him and whispered, “Phil, what’re you doing?”

“Sorry,” he whispered back, but all he could think about for the rest of service was what he wanted to text Dan when he got home that night. 

 

**. . .**

 

Dan was about to drift off to sleep when Phil finally texted him back.

**Phil: Cartoon owl was a bust. He ditched me to find lollies.**

Texting back right now probably wasn’t the best plan. Dan was exhausted and needed some sleep. He had a whole battery of tests to endure tomorrow. But Dan found himself typing out the words anyway.

**Dan: Disappointing. Anyway, how was your evening?**

**Phil: Fine. Just sitting in my pyjamas watching an old episode of Buffy. You?**

**Dan: According to my heart rate monitor, I’m doing 80 beats a minute.**

**Phil: Fascinating. What are your oxygen levels?**

**Dan: The nurse told me, but i was definitely not listening. I’ve just scrolled through tumblr until my eyes started to cross and then scrolled some more anyway.**

**Phil: What’s tumblr?**

**Dan: You’re too innocent for tumblr, Phil.**

**Phil: oh, is it a gay porn site?**

Dan snorted. Not if you don’t count explicit stucky mpreg fic, and computer drawn Johnlock fanart. It had gay porn on it, but it wasn’t a gay porn site. 

**Dan: No, Phil, but you’re still too innocent for it.**

**Phil: I’ve been around for thirty years. Less innocent than you think.**

Ignoring the strange shiver that traveled down his spine at the word, Dan shot Phil another text. 

**Dan: In what way?**

He regretted it almost immediately. It was late and his mind was fuzzy with thoughts of Phil, thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having.

**Phil: In uni, on a dare, I cursed at a store clerk and then stole a bunch of candy from the register.**

Dan snorted. Not at all the way he’d dreamed of that conversations going, but it still filled him with strange warmth. He didn’t know Phil well, but somehow that felt extremely him in a way that made warmth bubble between Dan’s ribs.

**Dan: Wow, I can’t believe Dark Phil emerged and I wasn’t there to see it.**

**Dan: You brought the candy back and apologized didn’t you?**

**Phil: Yeah, lol. like half an hour later.**

With a chuckle, Dan just shook his head. 

**Dan: You're too good for this world. Too pure. Like a cinnamon roll.**

**Phil: B- use of meme.**

**Dan: You know what a meme is?**

Dan waited awake for a few moments, but Phil didn’t text back. It was late. He’d probably fallen asleep, which was exactly what Dan needed to do. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

The next morning Dan woke up to a text from Phil apologizing for having fallen asleep. Dan shot him back a text and they spent the majority of the day, sending little messages to each other, jokes and gif memes. Dan found himself constantly reaching for his phone, even if there wasn’t a text message. He was smiling so often that one of regular nurses, asked him what had him so happy. He’d ignored her, but a part of him had wanted to answer truthfully. To say Phil, Phil was making him this happy.

Over the next few days, this trend kept up. Phil would text him during boring meetings and Dan would complain about the nurses poking and prodding him. They’d talk about other shit too. Just whatever came to mind. It was nice. To have someone to talk to again, someone who seemed to somehow understand. Despite this thing, this big thing, they differed so fundamentally on, Dan couldn’t think of another person he’d ever talked to and felt so understood by them. So when Phil texted Dan asking if he could drop by, Dan replied and it was one of the easiest texts he’d ever sent.

**Dan: Yes, pls.**

Phil showed up a few hours later with a backpack slung over his shoulders. He looked…well, he looked incredible. He had his contacts in, his hair pushed back and he was wearing a button-up with corgis all over it and jeans that curved around his legs in a way that made Dan’s mouth go dry. Would Phil freak the hell out if he knew what Dan was thinking? Maybe. Maybe not. It’s not like he’d been lying to Phil. Phil knew Dan was into men and knew Dan found him attractive, and he’d never acted so weird about it. So whatever. It didn’t matter. Dan had plenty of practice of swallowing his crushes. He had an unfortunate history of falling for straight men.

“What’s with the backpack?” Dan asked. 

“Hey, Dan,” Phil said, ignoring his question. He slipped the backpack off and sat it on the foot of Dan’s bed. With a small grin, he unzipped and pulled out a shiny gaming console.

“Oh my God. You're amazing.”

Phil nodded. “I thought we could play some. If you wanted. I asked the nurses and they said I could hook it up to the TV in here.”

“You’re an angel, Phil Lester. Truly.”

Phil looked at Dan, his expression serious, his gaze lingering. “I’m…I’m really not.”

“You are to me,” Dan said jovially. Moving to sit up more, he tugged on his IV and it sent a jolt of pain through his arm. “Ow! Shit.”

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, his voice pitching higher. His hand shot out to help support Dan, who was wobbling from jerking his arm back into place so hard. Phil’s hand landed right on Dan’s. The feeling it was static, like blue electricity, and Dan could barely believe a simple touch could feel like _that._ He could only wonder if Phil felt it too.

Phil pulled away first, his hand curling into a first and then uncurling.

“So what? Are we going to play or not?” Dan asked.

A smile pulled across Phil’s face. “Patience is a virtue, you know?”

“Good thing I’ve never cared at all whether or not I possessed virtues of any sort.”

Chuckling quietly, Phil began to hook up the console and it wasn’t long at all before they were a dozen rounds of Mario Kart into whatever this thing between them was. 

“Why do I keep losing?” Phil groaned. “I swear I’m better than this. I think the console can’t read my controller from here.”

Dan wasn’t sure that was how it worked, but he’d never been one to pass up an opportunity even when it was a stupid opportunity.  “Mine seems to be working fine. You can squeeze on up here if you want. I don’t bite. Unless that’s like your kink.”

Phil gave him a narrowed eyed glare. For a moment, Dan thought he’d fucked it up with the kink comment, but he found Phil sliding down beside him on the bed. The bed was so small that they really were crammed together on it. They were touching head to toe and it was the only thing Dan could think about at all. So this time, Dan was too distracted to not get caught in the clusterfuck, and he ended up coming in fourth, while Phil came in respectable second.

“I told you it was where I was sitting,” Phil said. “But I don't know what happened to you.”

 _You,_ Dan thought, _You’re happening to me, Phil. And I have no idea how to stop it._

 

_. . ._

 

Phil didn’t know what was happening to him. He didn’t understand the nervous shiver that went through his body, each time he got a text from Dan. He didn’t understand why his heart beat faster whenever he'd walk through the door to Dan’s hospital room to see him. He didn’t understand why Dan seemed to be the singular thought curled around all the other thoughts. 

Anytime anything remotely interesting happened Phil immediately wanted to tell Dan about it, and usually, Phil did. They were talking almost constantly now so it was strange when Phil sent Dan a few texts and received nothing in return. With Dan’s health, Phil was pretty worried, but it could very well be Dan just having gotten bored with him. Phil figured that Dan’s grandmother would contact him or at least, Grace Point, if anything serious had happened to Dan. 

Three days later, Phil finally received a text from Dan.

**Dan: Come to hospital. Pls.**

Phil was sitting in church board meeting, but immediately texted Dan back.

**Phil: On my way.**

He stood up, told Pastor Jim it was a personal emergency—a response he knew he’d have to explain later—and left the conference room to the sound of him saying, “We’ll say a prayer for you.”

When Phil arrived, Dan wasn’t in his room. He asked one of the nurses on duty who said Dan was sat outside on the terrace garden. She pointed him the way and Phil hurried toward the door.

Phil stepped outside into the pale, late afternoon sun. He was surrounded by big leafy plants and pale white and pink blossoms. At the center of the garden, Dan was sat on a white bench. He was wearing black trousers and a black sweater with narrow-lined grey squares. His hair was still curly, but less of a mess than normal. He was the kind of attractive that Phil never let himself think about, the kind that punched the air out of his lungs.

“Hey, Dan,” Phil said as he sat down beside him on the bench. “You’re dressed like you’re getting out this place.”

Dan looked at Phil. Up close, Phil could see the redness in his eyes. He had clearly been crying, but crying could mean good news as well as bad news.

“I wonder how it’s going to feel,” Dan said, his voice hoarse. “Not being alive anymore. I guess it’s not going to feel like anything. That’s the whole point, but what does not feeling _feel_ like?”

Phil felt his heart plummet, like heavy lead in his stomach. “Dan, what happened?”

A tear slipped out of Dan’s eyes and he wiped away with the back of his hand. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“At this stage, treatment has only got a small chance of working. Fifteen percent, they said, and the side-effects are a nightmare.”

Phil heard a faint buzzing in his head, and he was worried he was about to pass out, like he had when he’d donated too much blood. “I’m so sorry, Dan.”

“You’ve seen people die, right?”

Phil forced a nod. “Yeah. More than my fair share.”

“Does it seem to hurt?”

“No…” Phil said, his throat starting to tighten.

“Are you just saying that?”

“No.”

Dan let out a long sigh. After a few quiet moments, he whispered, “Are you scared for me? Eternal damnation and all that?”

The truth was—as selfish as it sounded—Phil hadn’t thought yet to be sad or scared for Dan. He'd been scared for himself. Scared at the idea of no longer having Dan around.

“Are you scared?” Phil asked. “About eternal damnation and all that?” 

“I thought about it…I thought about asking you to like, I don’t know, work your getting into heaven mumbo jumbo just as like a safety net, but then I realized that it wouldn’t really work as a safety net because there are like hundreds of religions and what’s to say if yours is even the right one. I mean I could be sat here pledging my eternal soul to Jesus and Zeus is up there on Mount Olympus like ‘You done fucked up, son’ and now I’m sucking Hades fire dick for the rest of eternity. And that’s to say nothing of Scientol—“

Phil captured Dan’s lips with his own. Before he even understood what he was doing, Phil was kissing Dan. Just kissing him, like it was the simplest thing, like it was something he was just allowed to do. It was just so…so _damn_ easy. Phil hadn’t expected that at all.

Dan was kissing back with gentle, insistent lips, a hand on Phil’s thigh as he turned closer to Phil, sinking into it. When Phil put a hand on Dan’s cheek, he felt wetness on his fingers. 

     Phil pulled away slightly, leaning his forehead against Dan’s, struck with the utter disbelief that he had kissed this man and also with the absolute certainty he'd do it again. 

“Am I going to die?”

Phil felt tears prickle at his own eyes. “I don't know.”

“Phil?”

“Yes, Dan?”

“Kiss me again.”

Phil nudged their noses together and whispered, “I can do that.” 

And he did. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Phil stayed for a while after that, though they returned to Dan’s room and set aside the kissing to just talk. Phil didn't leave until visiting hours were over. 

Once Phil was gone, Dan changed into pajamas and crawled back into bed. Dan left his clothes out for leaving tomorrow, for just letting this death thing run its course. But when Dan touched his lips and the memory of Phil’s mouth on his came back to him, suddenly, fifteen percent didn't feel like such small odds after all. 

Early the next morning, Dan received a text from Phil.

**Phil: When you heading home today? Thought maybe we could grab a coffee and talk.**

**Dan: Can't.**

**Phil: Oh, okay…**

**Dan: I mean we can get some shit food in the hospital cafeteria if you want though.**

**Phil: you're going to try the treatment?**

**Dan: Yeah, what the hell, right?**

They made plans to meet up at eleven, but instead of going down to the cafeteria, they ended up ordering a room service cheeseburger and splitting it. 

“Dan...I think we need to talk about last night.”

“Oh boy.” Dan knew this was coming. You couldn’t gay kiss a pastor without some repercussions, at least in the form of awkward conversations.

“It was...I don't know.”

“Do you regret it?” was what Dan asked. What he wanted to ask was “Did you beg God to forgive you for wanting me?”

“No, Dan. I don't, but still, I don't understand exactly what I'm feeling or what I'm doing. I just know I don't want to hurt or mislead you. You deserve better than that. I'm sorry.”

“You're confused, Phil. I've been confused too. It’s hard and it sucks and I didn't even have the insane pressure of a job that definitely doesn't want you kissing me.”

Phil let out a shaky breath. “I want to understand I’m not asking you to keep quiet about this or to lie if you're asked. I don't want you to lie for me, but I feel like I need time to—”

“Phil, it’s okay. It's like...you know how when you do confession—”

“You're thinking of priests again.”

“Right, well, the point still stands. We don't out each other. It's like our people’s sacred covenant.” 

A small smile curled on Phil’s face. “Thank you, Dan.”

“We can still hang out, though right? I can behave myself, I promise.” He crossed a hand over his heart. 

“You're not the one I'm worried about.” Phil looked down at his shoes. “I kissed you, remember?”

“I remember,” Dan whispered.

“But, yeah, we can still hang out. As long as you let me win at Mario Kart sometimes.”

“I don't know about that.” Dan laughed, and Phil joined in.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together until the nurse—Rita—came in. Dan was terrible with names, but Phil always called everyone by name, so Dan had finally committed it to memory. But Dan really didn’t want Rita here right now because he knew why she’d come. It was time for Dan to start the first part of his treatment. 

“I can stay,” Phil said. 

“Nah, my brother will be here soon. It's fine. I’ll text you tonight.”

“Sounds good. See you later, Dan.” Phil stood from his chair and left.

Rita unhooked Dan from the heart monitor. “You and Pastor Phil really have become good friends.”

“He's pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I’d watch that crush though, Howell. Before it spins out of control.”

“I don’t…I’m not…” _Oh, what the hell? “_ How did you know?”

Rita pulled his monitors out of the way. “You forget I'm the one who has to be around you when you're sky high on opiates.”

A faint memory of being asked his name and replying Daniel Lester before giggling came back to him. Dan could feel his cheeks get hot as he stood. “Oh, God.”

Rita snorted. “Just be careful.”

“I'm dying, Rita. Careful went out the window a long time ago.”

“I don't mean you. I mean him. Be careful with him.”

Dan pressed his lips together and gave a small nod. Phil was a good man, one of the best. And he didn't deserve a life derailed by a man with a death sentence.

“I will be.”

 

. . . 

 

Early the next morning, Phil was yawning as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the run down pot in the church lounge.

Pastor Jim walked in, smiling. He was almost always smiling. He was short, broad-shouldered with silver hair. Phil had always thought he had a sort of Martin Sheen thing going on.

“Hey Phil, is everything alright?”

“What?”

“The emergency the other night at the board meeting…” Pastor Jim prompted.

“Oh, oh yeah.” No, it wasn't alright. He had kissed a man and that man only had a fifteen percent chance of not being dead in six months. “It's...a friend of mine had just gotten some bad news about an illness and he needed support.”

“I'm glad you could be there for him. You always had that spiritual gift. What's his name? Your friend?”

“Dan.”

Pastor Jim clapped a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “I'll add him to the prayer list.”

“You don't have to…”

But Pastor Jim had already grabbed the dry creamer he'd come to get and walked away. 

With a sigh, Phil pulled out his phone.

**Phil: I had to explain why I ditched the church board meeting and you ended up on the prayer list. Sorry :(**

**Dan: What are you doing to me, man? Zeus is going to be pissed. I've gotten demoted to rim jobs for Hades.**

Phil flushed hot. He only vaguely knew what a rim job was and he already felt light headed. 

**Phil: DAN YOU CAN’T SAY THESE THINGS**

**Dan: oh my God, this isn't your work number is it??**

**Phil: No, but they can still ask for my personal electronic devices.**

**Dan: Rim job (n) definition: cleaning the rims of car tires.**

**Phil: thanks a lot, Dan.**

**Dan: I can't believe your boss has free reign of your browser history. That's the stuff of nightmares.**

It wasn't when you didn't look up anything weird on the internet, but the thought of Pastor Jim being able to read his conversations with Dan made him feel queasy, despite Phil not having said anything incriminating in them at all. They were just…they were personal, private.

**Phil: How did your treatment go anyway?**

**Dan: Well not great, mate.**

Sadness settled over Phil. He knew this was going to be hard for Dan. He'd seen things like this and they were never easy, but it still hurt his heart.

**Phil: Up for Mario Kart tonight.**

**Dan: Pls**

Phil went to hospital that night and almost every other night that week, except when Dan was getting his treatments. They left him weak and sick and out of it in a way Dan said he didn't want to Phil to see. Phil didn't care and wanted to be there for Dan, but Dan insisted and Phil respected his wishes.

Dan was getting weaker now though. Quieter and he’d sometimes just nod off while they were in the middle of a conversation. That was okay though. Dan was tired and fighting something awful and insidious. Phil had started to bring books along, so he could just sit beside Dan as he slept. He'd been there enough now that he'd run into Dan’s parents and brother. Today, while Dan was napping, an even more familiar face popped into the room. It was Dan’s grandmother.

“Oh, oh Pastor Phil. I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Nancy, hi. How are you?” Phil stood from his chair and gave the older woman a gentle hug. 

“As good as could be expected.”

“Of course.”

The nurse walked into the room. “Hey, Phil. He sleeping again?”

“Yeah, he took his pills before he fell asleep though. And I had him drink that glass of water.”

“Thank you.” The nurse nodded, then turned to Nancy. “Not sure what your grandson would do without him.” With that, the nurse left the room.

Nancy titled her head, just slightly. “Oh...you're here often? I didn't mean for you to…I know you're a busy man.”

“We...became friends,” Phil said. “I’m not here for work.”

“He's a good boy,” Nancy said, looking at her grandson wistfully. 

“He is,” Phil agreed. 

Nancy sat down and visited with Phil for awhile until Phil got a call about one of their older members having a stroke and he had to go and sit with the family. 

They carried on like this for about a month. Phil coming and going at all hours, anytime he could fit it into his schedule. Everything else in his life had started to feel like white noise between the full HD color of his time with Dan. Even though Dan was getting thinner and sicker by the day—bony in ways he hadn't been before—he was still Dan. Still morose but laced with humor. He was insightful and kind, and it was easy to spend hours with him without even realizing it. It was easy to wedge himself beside Dan in that hospital bed, put Dan’s laptop on their knees and binge Netflix until they went cross-eyed. Though most of the time there was no evidence they had once kissed, once when it was late and Dan was having particularly rough time, Dan had hooked his pinky around Phil’s and squeezed. Phil just squeezed back and didn't let go until Dan’s hand went limp with sleep. 

It had been a few days since Phil had been at the hospital, though they’d continued to exchange texts. He’d been so busy at church, since last Thursday. It was Tuesday now and he had fifteen people in his living room waiting for Phil to talk about the chapter in Romans they’d read this last week, when all Phil wanted to do was grab a car to go see Dan. 

There was a knock at the door, which was strange. On Tuesday nights, people usually just came on in. But Phil went to answer the door anyway. 

He opened the door and felt his heart slam into his throat. “Dan?” 

. . .

Phil had a listed address. He hadn’t been hard to find—just a simple Google search away. And now Dan was staring at Phil—and at least a dozen people behind him.

“Oh shi-shoot. It’s Tuesday. I forgot about your small group.”

“Dan, what are you doing here? Did you…did you stop treatment?” Phil sounded tense, he looked tense, like a pulled back bow.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Dan smiled. “Because I’m fine, Phil.”

“What?” his voice cracked.

“The treatment worked. I’m going to be just fine.”

Phil froze, going totally dead silent and then his voice raised artificially loud. “I’ve got that thing you wanted to borrow. It’s in the laundry room. If you come with me, we can get it.”

Dan furrowed his brow. “What?”

Phil shot him a look that shut him up and Dan just followed Phil through his flat. It was obviously old, but pretty big for London and brightly decorated in a way that made it feel very homey, very Phil. Phil opened a door, grabbed Dan by the sleeve of his jumper and yanked him inside. He shut the door behind them, unlocked it and flipped on the light.

They were standing in tight quarters, surrounded by a washer and dryer and a pile of dirty clothes. Phil stared at Dan, eyes blown wide, taking in deep breaths. Dan wasn’t sure who made the first move, which one of them snapped first, but he was sure it didn’t matter. Because, finally, he was kissing Phil again.

Phil put his hands on Dan’s face and pressed Dan against the door, crushing their mouths together. Dan slid his hands around Phil's back, running fingers up his spine and to his neck. 

When they’d kissed before, it had been close-mouthed, but this time Phil was letting Dan in, letting him lick against his tongue and his teeth. Dan’s heart was jack-hammering in his chest, and he swore he could feel Phil’s heart matching him beat for beat.

Dan pushed back against Phil, overcome with a sudden burst of energy. Somehow, without realizing, he’d lifted Phil onto the washer and he was biting at Phil’s lips, kissing across the stubble on his cheek and down his neck. Phil was panting, head thrown back and beautiful. 

Phil was the one who brought their mouths together again, who pulled Dan in even closer. That shiver of want grew stronger by the second, fueled by each stolen touch, each quiet breath. Dan was getting hard and one shift of his hips told him Phil was right there with him.

When Phil let out a trembled gasp against Dan’s lips, Dan shifted his hips into Phil again.

“Dan,” Phil whispered. “P-please slow down.”

Dan obeyed immediately. Of course he did. He’d never want to do something Phil didn’t want, not even for a second. 

“Are you okay?” Dan asked against Phil’s mouth.

Phil kissed him again, softly this time, but still burning with want. “There’s a lot of people out there waiting for me.”

Dan gripped Phil’s shirt, ran his hand down the buttons. “Make them leave.”

“You have no idea how much I want to.”

“Why don’t you?” Dan’s said breathily, his hand on Phil’s thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth.

“I don’t trust myself to be alone with you right now.”

Everything inside Dan begged him to stay, to drop to his knees right now, open his mouth and see how good Phil was at resisting temptation. But Dan respected Phil too much to push him.

“I don’t want to leave,” Dan said.

“You’re welcome to stay but—“

“Heh, no thanks.” He liked Phil, but he wouldn’t endure a sermon for anyone.

Phil rolled his eyes as he slid off the washer. God, he was a delicious looking mess. “You want to get breakfast tomorrow?” 

Dan reached out and flattened the strands of Phil’s hair his fingers had rucked up. He straightened out his shirt too. “I’d like that.”

Phil reached over and made sure Dan looked decent as well. With a soft sigh, he stole another kiss. “I’m glad you’re not dying.”

“You know what? Me too.”

Phil handed Dan a handheld vacuum and then announced very loudly that he was sorry it had taken them so long to find it. Phil wasn’t very good at lying. He clearly hadn’t had much practice. Dan thanked him and left. He was disappointed that he didn’t get to spend more time with Phil, but there was tomorrow. Dan had lots of tomorrows now.

  They had breakfast the next morning, and Dan didn’t realize how nice it would be to be somewhere other than the hospital with Phil. They ate muffins that actually tasted good and coffee that wasn’t too bitter and just talked like actual humans. Occasionally, when Dan was certain no one was watching, he'd run his foot along Phil’s leg, just to watch Phil shut his eyes and shiver. 

They ended up having breakfast most mornings after that and dinner whenever Phil didn't have church stuff to do. Most of the time they’d just hang out like friends, playing video games or watching anime or going to the movies, but other nights, one of them would lean in for a kiss and the other would accept it. 

It had gone a little farther tonight, Phil had let Dan push him back on the couch. Dan wasn’t letting their bodies press against each other, but he was holding himself up over Phil and his arms were going to give out soon. It wasn’t long before Dan dropped down enough that every kiss had them creating delicious friction between them.

“D-Dan…Dan, I think we’re going to have to stop,” Phil managed as Dan kissed his neck. 

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Then, why stop?”

“B-because I can feel you,” Phil stuttered out, his hand in Dan’s hair.

Dan started bringing his kisses lower, tracing them down Phil’s t-shirt. “I can feel you too, you know.”

“It’s… _oh, Dan._ ”

“We can stop Phil, but we don’t have to if you don’t want. I certainly don’t want to.” Dan nuzzled his face into Phil’s stomach and reached for the button on Phil’s jeans.

“What are you doing?” Phil’s voice wavered. 

“I’m going to blow you, if that’s okay.”

“I-I’ve never.”

Dan hesitated, stilling his hand. “Phil, are you a virgin?”

It was possible, even though Phil was thirty. It was technically a sin to have sex outside of marriage so he could have abstained all this time.

“No, I…it’s been years, but there were girls. It was fast and awkward and they definitely weren’t going to do that.”

“I will.”

Phil swallowed then slowly moved to hook his thumbs around his pants and tug them down—not a lot but enough. Enough for Dan to see what he wanted so desperately to see and now so desperately to taste. 

“Please,” Phil begged.

Dan breathed out a shaky breath as he brought a wet kiss to Phil's bared hipbone, to the tender flesh of his inner thigh. He kept his eyes on Phil, who was watching him back, their gazes unwavering, as Dan brought his open mouth down to where they both wanted it so badly, felt the weight on his tongue and the stretch on his lips.

Phil came apart so easily for him, like a handful of snow, melting and soft. It didn’t take long at all before Phil was shuddering and stuttering out Dan’s name, before he was filling Dan’s mouth.

Dan swallowed, then slid back up Phil’s body to kiss him. 

“How was that?” Dan asked. “Are you alright?”

Phil kissed Dan again. “It was…Dan, there aren’t words. Seeing you like that…“

Dan blushed. He knew he was good at that and Phil didn’t have anything to compare it to but still. 

“You’re still…you haven’t, have you?” Phil asked.

Dan chuckled. “No. You'd know it if I had. I’m loud.”

“I can…I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can.”

As much as Dan wanted Phil’s hands or his lips or his…anything really, Phil had gone far enough into new territory for one night. Dan didn’t want to scare him off.

Dan licked his dry lips. “You want to watch me touch myself?”

Phil just shut his eyes and nodded.

. . .

Dan asked Phil to stay, but Phil declined. He said he had to be up early for work tomorrow, which was true—tomorrow _was_ Sunday—but it wasn’t the full truth. Phil had just had a man’s mouth on him, had just watched another man bring himself to completion. It was…a lot and Phil knew what had been happening could no longer be swept under the rug. So he kissed Dan goodbye, promised to call him after church and took the train home.

Phil pulled on some sweats and a ratty old shirt and he made himself a cup of tea. He placed it on his nightstand as he always did and sat down on the bed to pray. He tried for awhile to formulate words, but he couldn’t manage any—they all just jumbled in his mind, a twist of vowels and consonants. Then he recalled a Bible verse. It was one from his recent study of Romans for small group. When you couldn't find words, when you didn’t know how to pray, the Holy Spirit would intercede on your behalf, would understand and speak the words to God you didn’t even know how to speak. So that’s what he did. He just sat on his bed, an ache in his chest, and let that ache be what he had to say. 

And then the time came where Phil would confess his sins, if he had any to confess, he didn’t do what he’d been doing ever since he’d kissed Dan on that rooftop terrace. Playing this silly game with God—as if God couldn’t see through it, as if God didn’t know—where Phil would just say “Forgive me for any sins I may have committed and help me be better tomorrow”. Like, just in case, this stupid phrase would somehow set him right if he had been set wrong. It was childish and it was cowardly and he was done with it.

Phil wished as he sat there, that he sat with certainly that what he had done with Dan, that what he was feeling for him, wasn’t sin. But he wasn’t certain and years of conditioning, of being fed a line about loving men, about being with them, had guilt biting at his skin. Then Phil remembered a passage from the Old Testament, a story about Jacob wrestling with God and how he ended up walking with a limp for the rest of his life. But there’s a part of the story Sunday School teachers loved to gloss over, to explain away. Jacob wrestled with God and Jacob won.

So, despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, Phil thought vividly of everything he’d done with Dan, everything he felt for him. He thought of the way their mouths had fit together, their fingers. The way Dan had felt under his hands—the way Dan made his heart beat faster, the way he made his body thrum with desire. Phil thought of the way being with Dan comforted his soul, the way his presence brought Phil a peace he’d never known before. He could only describe that feeling in one way—Phil was in love with Dan. If that was a sin it made no difference to Phil. It changed absolutely nothing.

He wouldn’t hide from it, but he wouldn’t confess it as sin either. He wouldn’t ask for forgiveness. God could raise His voice from heaven and demand it, and Phil would simply refuse Him.

Phil got up early the next morning—long before the sun and he wrote a letter. He printed out and signed his name, then got on the train to church. He knew Pastor Jim would be there. He always got there hours before service, to pray and prepare himself spiritually, to make sure he was saying from the pulpit the words God wanted him to say. Before he went to Pastor Jim, Phil went to his office and packed up the contents of his desk in a cardboard box. When he was finished, he walked the hall to Pastor Jim’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come on in,” Pastor Jim said.

Phil stepped inside, his fingers denting the letter. He didn’t find any of his own words before Pastor Jim spoke again.

“Oh, good morning, Phil. You’re here early.”

“I needed to give you something.” Phil stepped forward. He was nervous, but he was okay. He could handle this. He needed to.

He sat down, put the paper on Pastor Jim’s desk and pushed it towards him. Pastor Jim gave him a strange look, but picked up the paper to read it. After a few moments, he said, “Phil. what is this?”

“It’s my resignation.”

He put a hand over his mouth, his brow furrowed. “How do you expect me to react to this?”

Phil had written it all in that letter, had expressed that he was quitting, effective immediately, and that he had fallen in love with a man, that he had _been_ with another man—thought he didn’t go into too much detail on that end. “You react how ever you need to react.”

Pastor Jim shut his eyes and rubbed his head. “There are things…therapies they can—”

“Don’t, don’t do that.” Phil sighed. “Back when this church was fifty people crammed in your basement we promised we’d never do that.”

“Do what?”

“Feed each other the lines. You know as well as I do, that it doesn’t work and even if it did…”

“Even if you did, you wouldn’t do it.”

Phil looked straight at Pastor Jim, who was looking pale and a little shaky. “Would you give up Clara?”

“For God?”

“For your job?”

Pastor Jim clasped his hands together like he was praying and leaned his head against his hands. He said nothing for a long while until, “I can’t accept this.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t change anything…”

“Your resignation.” He pushed the paper back towards Phil. “I’m not accepting your resignation.” 

“What?”

“You’ve been with me since the beginning, through everything. When my daughter died, and I was trying to hold it together for Clara and the other girls, it was you…you held me when I cried. You sat there while I screamed at you and called God names I didn’t even know I knew. And you never looked at me any differently, even after all that, so no, Phil. I’m not accepting your resignation.”

“I won’t leave Dan or hide him.”

“I’m not asking you to—I’m saying I’m backing your play. We’ll do this together.”

Of all the ways Phil imagined this going, this wasn’t one of them. “You can’t be serious? You’ll lose the church, the denomination will strip you of your ordination—”

“They’re going to do that to you, Phil.”

“I would imagine so.” Phil shook his head. “You have Clara and the girls to think about and this church, the people in it, they count on you. You’re doing good work here.”

“Am I? It doesn’t feel like it. We’re killing ourselves, Phil. Young people are leaving the church in droves and—”

“I know,” Phil said. “I know the statistics. I’ve been at all the meetings.”

Pastor Jim rubbed his eyes. “We’re killing ourselves.”

“And we can’t fix it by blowing it all up. You can make a difference here, change people’s minds and hearts. That’s always been your gift, but I can’t do it with you right now. I’m sorry.” Phil let out a long breath and pushed the paper back toward him. “Please accept my resignation.”

Slowly, Pastor Jim took the letter, and then stood up. “Thank you, Phil. For your service to God and to this church. And, thank you, for your friendship.”

Phil took Jim’s hand and shook it. “You’re a good man.”

With that, Phil left Jim’s office. He grabbed the cardboard box of his things and walked out of church, just as the congregation had begun to arrive. He dropped the box off at his house and then took the train to Dan’s.

Maybe he should have texted Dan, but he wanted so much to see him and tell him this in person. He took the elevator to Dan’s flat and knocked on the door. Dan opened it, sleep-rumpled and yawning.

“Phil?”

 

. . .

 

Dan blinked, confused. “What are you doing here? It’s Sunday morning. Shouldn’t you be at church?”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course…Phil is everything alright?”

Phil pushed past him and Dan shut the door before turning to face Phil. 

“Uhh, Phil?”

“I quit.”

“What?” Dan’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t begin to believe what he was hearing. 

“I quit my job at the church.”

Dan ran a hand through his hair. “Are you okay?”

Phil smiled—a bright and free smile. “I’m fine. I wanted to see you.”

A smile tugged at Dan’s lips. He wanted to see Phil too…always. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Dan?” Phil stepped closer to him, still smiling. It was a little freaky at this point.

“Yes, weirdo?”

“I love you. I’m…in love with you. I understand if you don't feel the same, but I wanted you to know. I needed you to—”

Dan kissed Phil. He was a thousand percent sure he started it this time. These months had managed to be both the hardest and the best months of his life and the latter was all because of this man, who'd become his best friend, who’d become so much than that too.

“I love you too, Phil. So much.” Now, Dan was smiling. 

Phil covered that smile with his lips, and they were kissing again, softly, a gentle testing of each other. They suddenly had all the time in the world when they weren’t running from illnesses or outdated rules.  

“Can we…” Phil whispered. “Go to your bedroom?”

“I’d like that.” Dan let out a shaky breath, and led the way.

Dan had never been more happy that Phil had taken his grandmother’s phone call and come to the hospital, that he’d put up with Dan’s dirty mouth and become his friend. That he had kissed Dan on that rooftop and given him the courage to seek treatment. If it wasn’t for that, Dan didn’t know if he’d be alive to today—alive to love Phil and to keep on loving him as long as Phil would have him. 

. . .

 

The morning light made the grey of Dan’s bedroom feel soft and light, and it made Dan’s face look as beautiful as Phil had ever seen it. He’d filled out so much since he'd left the hospital, brightened up in a way Phil never wanted to stop appreciating.

Now, they were here. Alone together, standing by Dan’s bed, taking each other’s clothes off so slow it made Phil ache with wanting more, faster, but he didn’t dare disrespect this impossible moment. So button by button, piece by piece, they laid each other bare, exposing gooseflesh skin to each other’s eyes and hands and lips. Dan was the most beautiful thing Phil had ever seen when he was naked and hard because he wanted Phil, because he loved him.

In no time at all, they were tangled in Dan’s sheets, trading kisses like cards and touching all the places they hadn’t touched yet, learning each other, beginning a long life of memorization, of uncovering. Phil had already discovered he loved the insides of Dan’s wrists, the curve of his spine and the soft skin beneath his ear.

“We don’t have to do everything right now,” Dan said, flushed and out of breath.

“But what if I want…I want you inside me, Dan.” He did. oh how he wanted that—to let Dan in like that, to give himself over to this man so entirely. Mind, soul and body.

Dan leaned their foreheads together, nudged their noses. “I can do that.”

Phil just lay back and let Dan do what Dan knew how to do, drawing him open with kisses, with tongues and fingers in places that made Phil flush hot, spread his legs and ask for more. It was slow…hours maybe…before Dan was using more than fingers, before Dan was pushing inside Phil and kissing him.

Phil expected it to hurt, but it didn’t. It was new…he’d never had anything inside him before, but Dan was so careful and gentle and Phil was shaking apart with love for him.

They were moving together, like they had been created for this, for each other, and Phil wondered if maybe they had been. But a stronger thought pushed that one away. It didn’t matter if they were made for each other or not. If they weren’t, they’d just remake themselves with the power of this thing, this nameless force, that rattled between them now, that shouted, wordlessly and full of power as they both came, as they kissed and breathed out quiet ‘I love you’s.

Phil didn’t care if this was how it was meant to be anymore. Dan was who he wanted, who he would always want, who he loved anyway, and that was worth fighting for. It might, Phil thought as he lay there with Dan, be the only thing that had ever been worth fighting for.


End file.
